


A Study in Kevin

by Aleph_Null



Series: Gods & Devils [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Body Modification, Character Study, Extreme Body Modification, Prologue, how kevin became kevin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 13:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18965917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleph_Null/pseuds/Aleph_Null
Summary: A short stream-of-consciousness essay trying to nail down the Kevin of Gods & Devils.





	A Study in Kevin

**Author's Note:**

> This was a short study when I was starting to figure out the present of Gods & Devils, the events of which precede where Kevin is now. It gave me a lot of ideas about the character of Diego and how he and Kevin would relate. I'm starting to dive back into writing, and I found this in my notes.  
> anyway, enjoy -  
> and hey - thanks.

It hadn’t always been like this. He hadn’t always been like this.  


Oh sure, he had always been chipper. What was the fun in going about your life with a big ol’ frown on your face? Turn that frown upside down, he would tell people. And then he would, if they wanted him to, if they could afford it. Actually, that was probably one of the least invasive services he provided at Gods and Devils Tattoo & Piercing.  


He was very professional. One man had leveled a lawsuit at him once, when he didn’t take care of his open wound properly and it got infected and he ended up losing the hand - but, well, in addition to monthly inspections from the Department of Health and Human Safety, which proved that his operation was as legitimate, clean, and - most importantly - legally covered by extensive waivers as it could possibly be, he had never had another customer with that sort of problem. Oh, there was always the risk that the body would reject an implant or that he would hit a vein by accident, but infection was not something that came from his shop; it was the result of bad aftercare, and he always made sure to stress just how important that was, with the kind of modification he did. Why a person would want holes punched through the webs between their fingers was beyond him - well, aside from a certain aesthetically pleasing appearance - but it wasn’t his job to judge their choices when it came to body modification. It was his job to make sure they understood their risks and responsibilities, verify they were of legal age and that what they wanted was something he was qualified to perform, then mutilate them for money.  


His most common procedures were pretty tame: subdermal implants, ear cropping, scarification, tongue splitting. He loved his job, of course he did - what was there not to love? Between helping people decide what exactly they wanted, or the best way to go about it, or adding to the ideas they had come in with, and sculpting human bodies into something most found disturbing but he (and his customers) found beautiful, he thought - no, he knew it was the best job in the world.  


At least for him.  


But he knew, once, it had been different. Sometimes, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror - tattooed black sclera blending perfectly with his dark irises, the scars from a purposefully ragged Glasgow smile, his own ears cropped into triangles like teeth all down the edge of the cartilage and his actual teeth filed down to points - his mind tried to flash to what it had been like before. Who he had been, where he had come from, how he got to the here and now.  


Who he was before he met Diego.  


But then something would distract him - a patch of skin he hadn’t yet scarred or tattooed, the glint of light off his piercings, and he would forget again, for a while.  


He didn’t hate the person he used to be, of course not. He liked people, and the him he used to be had been a person; he liked everyone, especially when they didn’t seem to like him. The prospect of the challenge to get them to like him was a thrill, and even if they never did, it was no loss to him. He knew he led an unorthodox lifestyle, that his appearance was frightening and disgusting to many, but he never let it get him down. It was so much better, so much more free, to let go of the expectation that he should look or act a certain way.  


Besides, he booked appointments months in advance and often spent hours with his clients before their appointment, getting everything exactly right. If that didn’t say something about how much more common people like him were than most people thought, he didn’t know what did.


End file.
